


Stunning Him with Stannum

by SquishySterek (Herm_own_ninny)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Dubious Consent, F/F, F/M, Kinda? I'm bad at writing suspenseful/scary shit, M/M, Magic, Revenge, Stucky Scary Bang 2017, Thriller, Tin Man - Freeform, Violence, Witches, curse, established stucky, every couple mentioned is already established
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-09 20:52:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,802
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12284208
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Herm_own_ninny/pseuds/SquishySterek
Summary: "Bucky is cursed (preferably by a witch-y relative of one of the Winter Soldier’s former victims?) and he is turning into a tin soldier. Literally. Like, the disturbing original Brothers Grimm-level literally. And of course Steve has to break the curse before it reaches Bucky’s heart. (dark fairy tale-style?)"Stucky Scary Bang 2017 submission





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [cpt_winniethepooh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cpt_winniethepooh/gifts).



To say Bucky was feeling under the weather wasn't anything out of the ordinary. He was used to feeling like shit, it comes with being a brainwashed Prisoner of War for decades of one's life. When something as commonplace as a door slamming can remind him of bashing a head between a door and door jamb, when a car horn reminds him of running a family off the road and off a cliff; the kids screaming as the dad's hand is still pressing down hard on the horn in his rush of adrenaline comes to the forefront during regular activities, it's easy to say that Bucky's existence is painful. To say his general mood is 'under the weather' is an understatement, but it's become normal. Any time he can relax, prop his feet up, let Steve braid his hair as he reads - those are the happy times.  
But the way Bucky is waking up right now, the muddled feeling in his head and the soreness in the right side of his body, he's afraid his freedom and reunification were all a fever dream he came up with while he was under. His brains were about to be scrambled again and he'd forget it all. But as he slowly peeked his eyes open he realized it was real. He was curled up in a tight ball in the bed, Steve had an arm thrown haphazardly over his side to 'keep him grounded'. "Steve?"  
The blonde's eyes fluttered open and he smiled, nuzzling against Bucky's shoulder. "Mornin'. You're up late," His voice was raspy, not the cliche caramel-ly raspy Bucky reads about in some of the weird young adult novels. It was raspy and gruff and grated against his sensitive morning hearing in all of the wrong ways, which is what made it so right.  
"Did Tony experiment on me last night before we went to bed?" He'd been made aware of his temporary bouts of amnesia, Steve was the only one he was comfortable admitting it to and asking for help.  
"What about Tony?"  
"Did he experiment on me last night before bed?"  
"English, Buck. I'm not good enough at Russian yet."  
Bucky frowned, closing his eyes and relaxing on his back. He took in a deep, shaky breath, trying to settle himself. Mornings were his most difficult, the time when his brain and his emotions were raw and untrained; when he was the broken man Steve aided in holding together. Morning was the time, if ever, Bucky would cry, too overwhelmed with everything going on around him to function as the soldier he was and still is.  
"Вдох."  
The word was rough, harsh on the edges, difficult to comprehend, Bucky trying to take the context. And he realized Steve wanted him to breathe, because his chest currently wasn't moving, Bucky was too caught up in his self-loathing and embarrassment to think to breathe. So he did, he inhaled, watching Steve's hand rise on his abdomen, fall, rise again, fall once more, until a pattern was established. He met the frosty blues beside his face, swallowing thickly. "Cпасибо," He whispered, eyes falling shut again as Steve kissed his forehead.

"Breakfast in bed today?"  
"The team is out on a recon, remember? I'll go out with you," Bucky sat up, shoulders tensing when Steve didn't move. "I'm speaking in English, right?"  
"Yeah," Steve was smiling a bit lopsided, his eyes doing that dumb twinkly thing as he sat up, arms winding around Bucky's waist. "You just sound like your old self right now. Brooklyn accent and all. Took me by surprise."  
"That's a good thing?"  
"Yes, a very good thing," Steve murmured, pressing a kiss to Bucky's stubbled jaw, sighing happily against the skin. "Reminder of the good old days when you always had your dumb little jokes and were dragging me to all of your nerd festival activities."  
Bucky smiled slightly, a small smile picking its way to his face. "Like that book shop opening. I took you with me so I could get four books for the price of two. The shop owner knew you, said you stood up for his girl once, and he let us have all four for free." There were tears now, from both of them, Steve pressing his face in the curve of Bucky's neck and holding him tight. "Yeah. You got three science books and made me choose an art one. I-"  
"-thought I should be the one getting books," Bucky whispered, shoulders sagging as he relaxed with the flood of emotion the memory brought. "I fought with you for fifteen minutes and threatened if you didn't choose one, I would, and that you should choose it because if I chose it and you didn't like it then it would be a waste of money. And, you-" Bucky's voice broke, a huge, stupid grin on his face.  
"I said I'd love anything you chose for me," Steve murmured, grinning, pressing a kiss to Bucky's tear stained neck, "because I love you. And I'd learn everything in that book just because you chose it." Steve stood up from the bed, walking to their dresser. He grabbed a very worn, faded, distraught book, and brought it back to the bed, settling himself between Bucky's legs and against his chest. "I've still got it."  
"I saw you working with it yesterday," Bucky murmured, trying to relax against Steve as he knew the blonde wanted, reaching around to open the book. The binding crackled a bit and he paused, but at no word of warning from Steve, he opened it all of the way. The page open was to a coral reef, a stray page stuck in from Steve sketching it. The ink was faded quite a bit, but Bucky could still see the trained, steady lines of the blonde's handiwork as he'd recreated the underwater scenery in his unique, gorgeous way.  
"Did this on the way to fight aliens back when," Steve chuckled at the statement, shaking his head, running a finger over the corner of the page to smooth it out. "Kept thinking of you, it had still been fresh back then, like I'd only lost you a year ago, but it had been decades, over half a century in real time."  
Bucky tentatively nuzzled his face in Steve's hair, trying to offer the comfort he was still getting used to giving.  
"Stark grabbed the book to look through it, I tore into him."  
They both grinned, Steve at the memory, and Bucky at the imagery and the stray thought that- "You've always been feisty."  
"I've always been protective of you, and this book was all I had of you at that time. The only physical piece of you."  
"You've got almost all of the pieces of me now, so I wonder if you'd tear into him if he took it again."  
"I would," Steve grinned, turning to face Bucky, cupping the back of his neck, "because I doubt you'd want the nude portraits of you I've got in there getting out."  
"If it shows the world your artistic talent, who am I to stop it?"  
"Because that's only for me to see," The blonde pouted before they both chuckled, Bucky leaning forward for a chaste, simple, sweet kiss.  
"Alright, alright," He chuckled, kissing Steve softly again, a bit rushed and shy, smiling softly.  
"While I'd love to sit here and stare at your stupid face," Steve murmured, leaning in for a soft, tender, smooth kiss, "I'm hungry. And so are you."  
"Can't we just... Order something and have Peter bring it up?"  
"It's a Tuesday morning, Buck. He's at school."  
Bucky groaned, standing and following Steve to the kitchen. "Stupid modern education system."  
The blonde laughed at that, his loud, uncaring, happy laugh that Bucky seemed to be the only one able to pull from him on something as simple as a stupid complaint. He sidled up behind Steve, arms settling around his waist as he began buttering bread for toast.

"I was asking, earlier, if Tony had experimented on me last night before bed? I felt kinda groggy and my left side is kinda sore."  
"That's just the feeling you get after waking up from a 10 hour night sleep," Steve murmured, settling himself against Bucky's chest, trying to let his partner know the contact was welcome and very much appreciated. The brunette hummed softly, trying to hide the tenseness from his timidity, giving a go at rubbing his thumbs over Steve's hips. The blue eyes fell shut as the man in his arms went lax, shivering slightly. They stayed like that, basking in the presence and attention of the other, the rarity and stillness of a morning without the others a welcome change that they would take full advantage of.

 

* * *

 

 

The resounding ding of the toaster pulled the two from their reverie, Bucky jumping and pulling Steve from the counter, turning so the blonde was shielded from the direction of the noise. "Mm. My hero," Steve whispered, a small smirk playing his lips as he kissed Bucky's cheek.  
He huffed, ducking his head down so the pink in his cheeks wouldn't be visible. "Trying to protect you from all of those dangerous carbs, lipids, and fatty oils."  
"Because my stupid amazing metabolism won't do that for me?"  
"I just want to keep you safe." Bucky murmured, smirking at him before walking towards the fridge and grabbing the jelly and peanut butter. "Is there any of the... The other kind of nut butter? Uhm... Almond, right?"  
"Pantry, Buck."


	2. Chapter 2

”How was it?” Bucky could do work conversations, and Natasha was easier for him to talk to, in some ways. She knew his past, she'd worked with him before, and she knew what was safe and what shouldn't be poked with a ten foot pole. Which was a bad analogy, Bucky could wrangle you in with a ten foot pole, easily. Wait until right before you touched him and yank the pole, pull you forward and use your stunned surprise to kill you in many ways.  
But that was beside the point. Natasha is good for Bucky to work with and around, which makes both his and Steve’s life easier.  
“Dangerous,” Her voice pulled him from the slight tangent, the smirk playing her lips causing him to roll his eyes.  
“No shit,” Bucky chuckled, bumping her shoulder, ducking a half-hearted swing after she stumbled into the wall. “What exactly about it was dangerous?”  
“The danger,” Natasha only had a shit-eating grin on her face, and Bucky sighed and rolled his eyes. “I don't know why I bother talking to you.”  
“You love me,” She cooed, stepping into the sparring room, smiling at Clint. She signed a simple greeting towards him, and Bucky mirrored it.  
“I have my hearing aids in, but thank you,” He smiled, tossing her workout clothes to her.  
“Did something bad happen on the trip? Nat won't tell me what was dangerous except for the danger.”  
“We ran into an old contact, someone Nat had had to sleep with back when she worked for her former employer,” Clint stood, tossed a foam bat to Bucky. “She let me take him out. He got me pretty good, though, 17 stitches up my left side.”  
“Bummer, isn't that Nat’s favorite side to cuddle you on?” Bucky grimaced, offering Barton a hand to get to his feet.  
“Yeah, but it's pretty numbed down, so it won't affect much unless I'm shirtless.”  
“Do you need me to pull my punches a bit today? No flack, I just don't want Nat tearing me a new one if I hurt you further.”  
“Who said you were sparring with me today?” Clint smirked, nodding over to where Wanda was humming along to music in her earbuds, wrapping her hands in tape.  
“You know how uncomfortable I am sparring with her. She's too human, she doesn't have combat experience,” Bucky said softly. “She's easily breakable.”  
“She needs the training. Nat is going to be coaching her and she'll be using you as a punching bag. There may be a few drills where you have to grab her or block a move before she delivers another, but it won't be to the extent of how you train with Nat or Steve or myself.”  
“So I'm just an over glorified prop?”  
“Basically. Usually she trains on me, but I'm not exactly in a place to take any more damage right now.”  
Bucky nodded, playfully hitting Clint in the head with the foam bat before tossing it at Wanda. She didn't even look up as she stuck her hand out, stopping the object mid flight and flinging it back towards Bucky. He caught it easily, smiling innocently when she took out her earbuds and faced him.  
“You're okay with all of this happening, James?”  
“Yeah. Don't pull anything, by the way. Follow Nat’s instructions to the 'T’. Try to hurt me, you'll need the experience and knowledge,” Bucky rolled his shoulder, the tightness still present in the shoulder housing his artificial arm from the other day still present. “You can wind me, you can incapacitate the little weaklings like Barton.”  
Clint huffed and threw Bucky the training pads, grumbling something under his breath as he perched on the monkey bars.  
“I leave for two minutes and my boyfriend is pouting and glaring at you, Barnes.”  
“He called me a weakling!”  
“He must have heard you whining about not being able to stretch this morning,” Natasha smiled, winking playfully at Clint. “And, speaking of, both of you are stretching. Get going.”

 

* * *

 

 

”Where do you think a male figure is the weakest?”  
Wanda looked at Natasha as if it was a stupid question, instantly moving to knee Bucky in the crotch. He grunted, stepping back and grabbing her knee. “I didn't agree to that.”  
“She's not thinking outside of the box.” The redhead sighed, shaking her head. “Body points from last time, what did I say was a weak spot on men? Besides the obvious?”  
Her eyes lit up as the answer came back in a flood of memory, and Bucky braced himself for the blow to his gut, followed by another to his jugular. He coughed slightly, shaking his head, taking a deep breath. “I said not to pull, Wanda.”  
“I don't want to hurt you. You've done nothing to me.”  
Bucky gave her a calculating look as he straightened himself up to his full height. “Your brother was an idiot for taking those bullets for Clint.” The pain blossoming in Bucky’s abdomen and the lack of ability to breathe properly was exactly what was needed from Wanda. He fell backwards to the mat before rolling over and propping himself on his hands and knees, trying to recover. Seeing as he'd hit an especially sensitive nerve, he wasn't at all surprised when he was thrown onto his back, a sparring knife pressed to his throat. Wanda's eyes were fiery as she glared at him, but Bucky sighed, pressing his own mock weapon against the base of her spine with a bit more pressure. “You would've been dead before the knife was at my throat. Use the anger to overcome, but not to throw logic out the window.”  
“Take it back.”  
“Get me to the floor without dying, first, and I will.”  
Wanda was at her feet instantly, circling Bucky as he got to his feet. She didn't waste a second lunging at him once more.  
He grabbed her hand wielding the knife, pressing his to her neck. “Dead.”  
She made it a bit farther with the next, lunging forward and swinging a leg around to pull Bucky to his knees. His knife was pressed to her abdomen, the other hand loosely gripping her throat before she even had the chance to make her next move. “Dead.”  
They continued on like that for another hour before Wanda got behind Bucky and rammed the butt of the knife into the join of his metal arm. The pain that sparked through his body caused him to throw her halfway across the mat, groaning at the severity of the pain.  
“What was that?” Natasha was at Bucky’s side, Clint helping a smug looking Wanda to her feet.  
“Take your shirt off, now, Barnes.”

 

* * *

 

 

”What do you mean his veins are running black?” Tony snapped, making his way to the large den, Steve hot on his heels. “I didn't use anything similar to my old reactor core, I don't see why he'd be having the same symptoms I did.”  
“Well, he does, and Cho wants you to look at the readings from his charts. Something's off, but she won't tell us.”  
“Fuck all if I know! My doctorates are in everything but the human body and how it works!”  
“Will you two assholes stop arguing and come help us?” Banner was reading Bucky’s charts, said man sitting a bit awkwardly atop an exam table. Steve made his way over and took his hand in his own, squeezing softly. “Probably just picked something up from a mission, Buck. I bet it isn't serious.”  
Bucky leaned a bit into the blonde, closing his eyes and trying to calm his nerves. He hates medical equipment, and to be surrounded by so much now, to have needles pricking his skin every five minutes… “I need some almond butter toast.”  
“Is it okay if Peter makes it, or do you need me to?”  
“He's not in school?”  
“It’s Saturday, Buck.”  
“Only if he isn't already doing something.”  
“I will happily make you toast if it means I don't have to watch everyone freaking out!” The teenager hopped up from the chair he was in and made his way to the kitchen, a bit too enthusiastically for someone about to make one of the world’s most mundane foods.  
“Anyone else need food? A three course meal? I want to cook!”  
“I could go for some deviled eggs and paprika.” Natasha called, cleaning off a spot on Bucky’s chest with an alcohol wipe before pressing a sticky pad down that was connected to a beeping machine. “Helen wants to take measurements of your involuntary synapses. Two on your chest, four on your back, one for each temple, and one on each thigh. I think she's going to run a simple motor skills test, too. See if anything is painful, difficult, or feels strange. No more needles, I convinced her to use Stark’s AI to scan you for everything.”  
Bucky's gratitude was expressed with a tight smile, grimacing as the rest of the pads we're adhered to his body. “Hey, tell Wanda to stop freaking out. She didn't break me, she just helped us find out something was wrong.”  
“Clint's already talking to her.”  
“Good. And if I don't get a chance, can you tell her I didn't mean what I said, earlier? I don't want her think-”  
“She's not stupid, Buck. She knows.”  
“It can't hurt for her to hear it.”  
“The only person that it can count to hear it from is you, then. Better heal up nice and quick. I need you back since Clint is still healing.”


	3. Chapter 3

“Tony, this doesn't make sense. Come see if this chemical makeup is right,” Banner was glaring at a piece of paper, beckoning the other man over, Helen rubbing her temples. “Tell us what you see.”  
Tony dropped the advanced biochem textbook he was reading on the table, tossing a slightly apologetic look at Bucky when he flinched at the loud noise. “What is it?”  
“Just look and tell us you're seeing it, too.”  
Tony gave the two doctors a look before grabbing the paper and looking it over, pausing, tilting his head, and reading again. And again. And again. “Why does it show pure elemental tin in his bloodstream? Are you two trying to pull some kind of hideous prank?”  
“Tony, why would we?” Cho grabbed the paper from his hand, using F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s 3D interactive to blow it up in front of them, frowning. “It doesn't make sense.”  
“His arm is Vibranium. Why is there tin emanating from it?”  
“To be able to drop from vibranium to tin the atoms would have to completely drop a valence shell, an entire shell directly below, and almost one third of the next. And then an adjustment of the nucleus, dropping protons and neutrons in the double digits... It isn't impossible, but I've never witnessed something like this in an actual human. The energy it would take to break that from just one atom is immense at that level, but to be pulling that from the arm and dispersing it into his bloodstream?” Banner was pacing, tapping his fingers against his forearm, brow furrowed.  
“Wait, how do we know this is from the arm?”  
“It's lowered in mass. That, or F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s readings were flawed. We had her triple check. The mass of the arm has lowered fractionally. About equivalent with what we can see in the centimeter length of black veins extending from his arm.”  
“Has anyone called Stephen?” Tony sighed, slumping down in his chair.  
“Why would we call a magician?” Cho scoffed.  
“He was a world renown surgeon and, lesser known, an astounding biochemist. He sent me some of his unpublished papers today, man's a genius from what I've been able to learn so far.”  
“I hate to interrupt, but, uhm,” Bucky smiled grimly, unable to muster any fake emotion. “I'm hungry and Steve shouldn't be alone right now.”  
“Go ahead, but don't leave the building. We don't know what could be going on or what repercussions it could have on you.”  
Bucky nodded at Dr. Cho, hauling himself from the table and leaving the room.

   

* * *

   

   

”I figured I'd find you here,” Bucky walked into the greenhouse, settling himself against Steve, careful not to disturb his sketching.  
“Have they fixed it, yet?”  
“No. I think they're calling in Stephen,” Bucky murmured, wrapping his right hand around Steve's shaking hand, closing the sketchbook. “Talk to me.”  
Steve finally met his eyes, the blonde trying to hold back tears.  
“Words, Stevie,” Bucky whispered, scooting to face him, settling the metal hand on his thigh.  
“I can't lose you again.”  
“Who says you're going to?” Bucky scoffed, ignoring the pit in his gut, leaning forward to kiss Steve's forehead. “They don't even know if it's deadly. If they have to, I'm not objecting to them just cutting this metal hunk out of my body. I'm sure Stark could create a badass new one,” Bucky smiled slightly, hoping he could cheer Steve up. The blonde just huffed out a sarcastic laugh through his nose, looking away. “Wouldn't that just be stellar.”  
Bucky flinched away from him, putting his hands in his lap and staring at them. “What did I do?”  
“It's just…” Steve shook his head, groaning quietly. “If Stark makes the tech, he can also control and use it against you. But you're so over the moon about getting rid of what you have that that thought hasn't even crossed your mind.”  
“You still don't trust him?”  
“He avidly worked to have you murdered, Bucky. I can't just move on from that.”  
“As far as he knew I was still a brainwashed murderous puppet of HYDRA. He was doing what anyone who didn't know me would do. He was doing what someone who is scared and hurt does. He found out I killed his parents, Steve. And now he's helping us, he came running when you told him something was wrong with me,” Bucky said quietly, eyes trained on his metal hand, running the fingers of his flesh hand over the joints and plates. “I'm not saying everything has to be forgotten, but I do believe he deserves to be forgiven. We were partially responsible for what happened to Rhodey. And I think you need to remember and realize that both sides of that conflict are guilty of some bad things.”  
Steve stood, shaking his head at Bucky when he moved to get up as well. “I hate your level head when I'm angry. I need you to leave me alone right now.”  
“No.” Bucky rose to his feet, grabbing Steve's wrist. “I know how you get when you're like this. I can let you off by yourself.”  
“I never said I was going to be alone. Just away from _you_.” Steve snapped, pulling his arm from a stunned Bucky’s grip, leaving the greenhouse quickly.  
“Is it a bad time to bring you that sandwich?” Peter’s voice was small as he stepped up beside Bucky, swallowing nervously.  
“No,” He sighed, taking the plate and examining the food. “You're too good of a chef to deny.”  
“Dude, I won't get upset if you're not hungry after that. I'll just eat it myself.”  
“Thank fuck, because I feel like I'm going to throw up,” Bucky mumbled, handing the plate back to the teen with a genuinely apologetic look on his face.  
“Sure. You can't control what will happen,” Peter took a bite of the sandwich, humming delightedly at the taste. “Hey, wanna watch a movie? Kingsman: The Golden Circle is out.”  
“I'm not allowed to leave the building.”  
“Tony gets all of the reels from movie companies in case Dr. Banner ever wants to see a movie and not go out.”  
“Sure. Is it the sequel to the original?”  
“Yeah! Did you see it? It was amazing!”  
“Weren't you thirteen when it came out?” Bucky perked his brow, opening the door to the main room for Peter.  
“What Aunt May doesn't know won't kill her,” Peter mumbled around a mouthful of sandwich, smiling goofily at Bucky. The man chuckled at the sight. “Lead the way to the movie room, little man.”


	4. Chapter 4

“So you're watching a rated R movie after you were told to do your homework?” Natasha entered the movie room, plopping down beside Peter, reaching over him to take some popcorn from the bowl in Bucky’s lap.  
“I'm just here trying to cheer up my friend. Rough times,” Peter murmured, too enraptured by the movie playing to see Bucky grimace at the information revealed. Natasha gave the older man an inquisitive look, to which he simply gave a minute nod and turned back to the movie.  
“Peter, can you pause it again?”  
“Yeah, what are you gonna ask about now?” Most people were annoyed by Bucky’s constant questions about pop culture references, or even decades old references he had no understanding of. Peter, however, loved to divulge information and explain things to the older man in whatever way he could.  
“What's up with the whiskey and boots and guns like that? And the rope? Is it an American thing?”  
“Oh, yeah! People around the world always think southern and Western Americans are super cowboy and hick. I think the directors of this movie are just trying to over-exaggerate it and make it comedic. The rope is used for something I think is called lassoing, I saw it in a rodeo that had been on TV once. They use the loop at the end to hook around a calf’s leg-maybe any livestock animal’s, really- and they tie them up. This guy is using it to fight who he thinks are the bad guys but are really just fucking idiotic Brits,” Peter's eyes were sparkling as he used his phone to show Bucky projections of everything he could, running through short clips of classic westerns and examples of the rodeo event he described. “Is that all for now?”  
“Yes, for both of you. We need to talk to Barnes, and you are supposed to be doing homework. Your Aunt will kill me if you come home without it done again,” Tony was standing in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest and watching the two with a slightly amused expression.  
“Mr. Stark! Come on, let us finish this! I have to get Buck caught up on pop culture!”  
“No. We need to talk to him and you need to work on your AP Government work. Up, up, up,” Tony clapped for the lights to come on, and the movie screen went dark.  
The teenager grumbled as he stood, taking the bowl from Bucky before exiting the room.

  

* * *

  

  

”Why do you need me to translate the letter? Do none of you know Russian fluently?” Bucky sighed, walking into the office space Tony had set apart for him. It was barren, the walls still a stark white and the desk lacking of everything but a laptop and an empty cup for pens. The one difference was the cluster of people around it, and a worn piece of paper with blue writing over the page.  
“Because of the... language? It seems like a riddle, almost. Or perhaps my quick study of the language was from a crappy source.”  
“So, none of you speak the language fluently? Even Nat?”  
“She was with you. We figured we'd have you translate it yourself,” Tony shrugged, grabbing the paper and handing it to the soldier.  
“Myself?”  
“I could make out 'winter will break’ and then 'stannum’ and something about creativity… I was lost. F.R.I.D.A.Y. was even confused. Perhaps because of the dialect,” Tony murmured, peeking over the top of the paper before making eye contact with Bucky.  
“Okay. Do you lot mind, uhm,” Bucky swallowed a bit nervously, the few words he'd recognized after scanning the page making him squeamish. “Can I have some space?”  
“Of course. Come on, we need to get back to those charts,” Dr. Cho beckoned Tony and Bruce, leading them from the room at a brisk pace. Clint hovered for a second longer before following Natasha out.  
Bucky glanced at Steve, his shoulders tensing on instinct. “You, too.”  
“Is this because of earlier?”  
“Kind of. But I also, I just need a second to process what this says. It's an older version of a dialect from a small village. Almost like old English can be different from region to region and sometimes has dead terms. The grammar is slightly fractured, which means the sender is possibly not of Russian origin and-sorry. You don't give a fuck,” Bucky laughed a bit bitterly, shaking his head as he sat in the surprisingly comfortable desk chair.  
“I’m a nerd, too, Buck. This stuff-”  
“Please, can I have my alone time, now?” Bucky cut him off, letting the defeat he felt show as he slumped in the chair, massaging the bridge of his nose with his knuckle. Steve came around the desk and brushed his fingers through the long brunette hair and just stayed with his hand atop Bucky’s head for a few seconds before leaving the room.

  

* * *

   

   

”It's magic, Stark,” Bucky entered the lab, setting the letter down on the table the scientists were working on, sighing softly. “If you care, all of the translation and dialect work is in the margins. It's a younger women using an almost dead dialect of Russian from the 40s in remote village on the Finnish border up in the mountains. She's apparently… cast a spell on me,” Bucky’s voice went quiet. “To turn me into a tin man.”


	5. Chapter 5

”We need to wait for Stephen to get here. He should be able to tell us if we can stop it,” Banner is glancing over the letter, looking between the words and Bucky's note, his brow furrowed. “Where's Natasha? Not trying to knock you, Barnes, but a second translation can't hurt.”  
Bucky just nodded, leaning against the bookshelf. The woman had cursed him because he’d murdered her husband and first born quite a few years back. She was going to take his heart and his body - his control of everything around him - away, just as The Winter Soldier had done so many years ago. He wasn't exactly fighting it, because he knew he deserved this many times over.  
Yet, at the same time, Steve shouldn't have to lose Bucky again, Natasha shouldn't have to lose him as a friend. Clint shouldn't have to lose a banter partner, and Peter shouldn't have to lose the “cool Uncle” stand-in Bucky had turned out to be for him. Bruce shouldn't have to lose someone so able to easily relate to having his body taken over by another personality, always having to push it down and keep it hidden because people could die.  
Bucky didn't want to give too much thought to how much easier Thor’s life would be if he disappeared. Bucky had been able to lift Mjolnir, but they kept it between the two of them. He still had no clue the absolute magnitude the ability implied and just what it meant, but he knew it would make Thor’s life a hell of a lot easier if he disappeared.  
And Tony. Tony shouldn't have to see the man who ruined his life, who murdered his parents and caused so many other problems in the background. Someone who's screwed with Tony’s life so many times that being turned to tin isn't a level of torture worthy of repaying the sins against the man.  
But, again, Steve. He was doing his angry thing, standing in the corner, glaring at the floor. Bucky knew this stance, it was nothing new to him. This was Steve's scared-angry position.  
“Does anyone know when he's going to get here?” Steve lifted his head, making brief eye contact with Bucky before sweeping his gaze over the scientific minds present in the room.  
“He's training students right now, but he should be available soon.”  
Steve nodded, walking towards the door. He took a slight detour to squeeze Bucky’s hand, make slight eye contact, and then left the room.


	6. Chapter 6

Steve glanced down at his phone again, frowning, but made his way through the crowded New York streets. An unknown number had contacted his phone, sent him an address and a message about information Steve was in need of.  
He knew that everyone would tell him immediately that going was a bad idea, but Bucky was turning into a literal tin man, and Steve was willing to risk everything if it meant keeping his boyfriend alive.  
The word sent a small chill down his spine. They never liked to use the word, a lifetime in their own day and age making it still difficult for the two of them to be able to label what they had. They just happened to be in a rougher district, a more religious sect of the slums that they rarely showed affection outside of the tower. Even in front of the others, Bucky always had a difficult time. Steve was more comfortable, he knew his teammates, knew they were supportive. Wanda has a girlfriend, which is why Bucky seems to almost gravitate towards her at times when Steve is deep in conversation. She was the first person that had been able to speak with him outside of Steve and Natasha. She'd broken the ice and slowly acquainted him with the others.  
But seeing Bucky with Peter, the easy companionship and gentle banter they had with each other always pulled at the parts of Steve he'd so vehemently tucked away after he thought he'd lost Bucky. After Bucky had drunkenly confessed wanting to have kids once they made it out, wanting a son and a daughter. Wanting to watch his girl make it through college and be a doctor or some higher up to stick it to society. Wanting to watch his son encourage everyone around him, to enjoy life and be respectful, to be able to make a change to the world in a subtle way that no man of their time actually dreamed of. Bucky had wanted to be a parent, to raise children with Steve, and now he almost had that chance.  
Tony, bless him, was a horrible father figure. Too guilting, too trusting, too hot headed and manipulative. He didn't have the best model of a father to go off of, but it wasn't fair to Peter just how the man was.  
So Steve would watch with a loving ache in his chest as Bucky listened earnestly to the kid’s issues or daily life, encourage Peter to go talk with the kids that give him a hard time. Let him sit in silence as he did homework or just needed someone to be with as he tried to work through emotions.

”Hey! You crossing, or what? I don't have all day!” A cabbie honking pulled Steve from his thoughts. The light had changed while he was in the crosswalk, and he finished the distance in a few quick strides, waving apologetically at the people he'd interrupted driving.

  

* * *

  

  

The building he arrived at was a small lab center with a receptionist at the front desk. Steve approached her, hands shoved in his pockets. “Do you not even have security personnel?”  
The woman paused and glanced up at Steve, pursing her lips. “They're out on vacation at the moment. Are you looking to apply?”  
“If I were, where could I go?” The full, honestly ridiculous, code was completely. The woman’s polite exterior fell as she handed Steve a Manila folder. “The boss is on the third floor. She'd like to interview all applicants personally.”


	7. Chapter 7

When Steve arrived back at the tower hours later he was greeted by concerned and slightly pissed off looks. Nothing less than expected.  
“Wanna tell us whe-”  
Steve interrupted Tony’s condescending tone by shoving a file in his chest, pushing through the group, and heading back to his room.  
“Steve! What the hell is this? Where are-”  
This time the door slamming effectively cut off the tirade of people breathing down his neck. Steve collapsed backwards against the door, sliding down and hugging his knees to his chest.  
The file was helpful. In so many ways. The location of the woman, how to start the counter spell with or without her help. The location of who to talk to next. It still wasn't in English, but Steve knew enough French to see it was useful.  
The only problem had been the price. The _price_ of that file was steep, taxing, and difficult. It took something from Steve, from his already battered, bloody, black soul and broke it in a completely new and even more destructive way. He'd had something ripped from him he'd never considered was detachable. A safety he'd never been even fathomed was there - it had been innate and something Steve never thought to treasure. Because things like that didn't happen to him, shouldn't happen to him, couldn't happen to him - except Bucky’s life was at stake. And it happened. Technically he'd given it away, but it wasn't still consenting. It was dubious. It was a thing he wanted to forget but he never could until he spoke about it to Bucky. And his reasoning - even as he was trying to think through it now, was so weak and feeble and Steve realizes that it wasn't his best option. But he'd been desperate, so close to the thing that he didn't stop to think of any alternatives.  
“Steve. Steve, seriously,” Bucky’s voice was close and panicky, his hand settled on Steve’s shoulder. He grabbed it instantly, holding tight and pulling it from his body abruptly. “Don't… don't touch me,” He rasped out. “Don't.”  
The look on Bucky’s face as he scooted backwards should have had Steve feeling guiltier than he did, but it barely dented the overwhelming sense of self loathing and disgust wracking through his body. “Don't. I'm dirty. Don't.”

”What?” Bucky scooted forward again, pointedly keeping his hands off of Steve. He had to fight the urge not to hold the man, which was strange in every sense for him.  
The blonde stayed quiet, forehead resting against his knees, his breathing slightly labored. “Steve, what do you mean you're dirty?”  
“The file. To get the file. Buck, I'm disgusting."  
Bucky frowned and reached for Steve’s hand, gripping it tight. “Whatever it is you had to do, I forgive you. I can tell it's messing you up, just please don't beat yourself up over it for me. Cmon.”  
Steve glanced up at him, sniffling. “I'm disgusting.”  
“No, you love me. That's all that matters. I know that, you know that, I know I love you, and you know I love you. You know I'm here for you no matter what, and I understand the lengths you'd go to for me. I've got you. You're forgiven,” Bucky murmured, reaching forward and brushing the blonde’s tears away.  
“You don't even know what I did.”  
“I don't need to, unless you want me to know it. I trust you.”  
Bucky rested their foreheads together, stiffly moving to grab Steve’s other hand with his metal hand. “You and me, forever, punk.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I managed to hit some major writer's block with this piece and decided this ending is technically a nice note to stop at. Steve got part of the solution and they're on the way to fixing it.  
> Sorry if I'm upsetting anyone with that.  
> I hope y'all enjoy and stick around for the updates on this later on in the series.  
> Happy Halloween!  
>  **\- J.M.O.**


End file.
